Elizabeth performed her first airport pickup a little after 8 PM on February 27. Her mother mentioned it was odd seeing a mask or two on the plane. It reminded her of the SARS epidemic where some people wore masks... Read more →


The night after Christmas, the house flipped over, rolled once or twice, and crashed into the marsh. The tail end of 2008 thumped twice, and expired. The remaining residents of 43 Blue Spruce Circle put themselves on life support and... Read more →


On her ninth birthday, Elizabeth abruptly chose a different path. She turned her back on the Mean Girls and set about making herself invisible. In truth, she wasn't so much invisible as invulnerable. While bullying via social media became the... Read more →


Well before I married Elizabeth's father we talked about children. In those early conversations we didn't talk about financial weight so much as the emotional and support commitments; those nebulous things that go well past shelter, clothing, and food. To... Read more →


Me and Elizabeth on the school bus rock. Just a metaphor, really, because we're still on that rock. Rocks change and people change but you can decide to stay on the rock together. **** My contract with GE came to... Read more →


There is no doubt the boy got the short end of the stick every single time. They lived in a little stone cottage on a small farm. The farm had horses and dogs and cats and bunnies. There was a... Read more →


The bear's name is Parquet and if you've ever read The Velveteen Rabbit, be assured that Parquet has been real for a very long time. An odd eleven year old asked for a teddy-bear at Christmas and the bear appeared... Read more →


Writer's prompts are magical. There is a section in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in which the protagonist is remembering a moment with a college student struggling to write well. I won't get into the philosophical discussion of... Read more →


My Aunt Annie. Not so sure about this selfie business. Heather, I don't know how to do this. Yes you do. You're doing it right now. She was seventeen when I was born, and married at twenty; three and a... Read more →